18 Pretty Little Feckles
by destielismypurgatory
Summary: Dean Winchester stared at the boy that he had loved since he was 18. The boy he had given his virginity to, that he had shared his first, "I love you" with, his sunshine, his darling, his forever. "I'm never coming back."Castiel stated. "Make that never a promise." Dean crossed as he watched his sunshine, his darling, his forever, walk out the door. Warning:Sex, Language and Death.
1. Chapter 1

_Don't ask yourself what you're searching for  
or why you left your home  
just be on the lookout  
for someone to call your own_

If you asked Dean Winchester to stop and smell the roses, he would laugh in your face. He would continue strolling along the sidewalk, not even eyeing the flowers once but looking straight ahead at where he intended to go. Dean Winchester never made detours, Dean Winchester never took long twisted, exhausting routes to get where he needed to be, and Dean Winchester most certainly, definitely, without a doubt, never falls in love.

It wasn't his thing; he thought the concept of spending your entire life with one person was a complete waste of time since there are over 7 billion people on this earth. He couldn't wrap his head around the idea of only want to have sex with one person out of those 7 billion. _Why don't you live a little_, he would say. People would roll their eyes at him, calling him a sex addict and spreading word that he is going to die alone as a drunk.

But as the world is a disgusting, revolting place that only seems to focus on the negative characteristics of people, many don't know that Dean Winchester is smart. Like, _really_ smart. So intelligent that he got into an elite governing school all on his own since his dead beat dad would do nothing to help him. Michigan's Governing School for Math and Science was topped number six in the state's top schools. Dean felt pride even in that. He got in on writing essays for scholarships and his brother, Sam, being his backbone. He wanted in because he wanted to be somebody. He wanted in because he didn't want people in 20 years to say, "See, ended up just like his father."

There were girls at this school, many appealing, sweet, smart girls, which were the easiest for Dean to wrap right around his finger. They had never been experienced to the charm of Dean Winchester since they're accustomed to preppy, nerdy boys who took proper steps to date a girl, but not Dean. Dean knew he could have them. Dean knew that they were all waiting on if he would pick them. They were waiting because Dean Winchester was gorgeous, he was secretly smart and they thought they would be the one to change his mind about falling in love. Each and every girl thought they could change his mind that one night stands weren't everything. Dean still hasn't found a girl who could change his perspective.

Currently, Dean was walking along the halls of Michigan governing school, having just eaten lunch and had already finished up his classes for the day, was going to meet up with his girlfriend, Elsa Nygen in the hidden garden tucked away to the left of the science building. It was nice there, there was a clear view of the clouds in the day and the stars at night, the trees in the autumn were stunning as they covered the concrete and not too many knew about it so it was the perfect make out place for a school that doesn't take relationships too well.

Elsa was already sitting on the stone bench, swinging her feet back and forth since they didn't touch the ground and twirling her brown ringlets around her finger. Dean sneaked up behide her, hugging her behide the waist and kissing her cheek all in one movement.

"Hey, babe." He whispered, trailing the kisses up and down her neck. "How was your day?"

"It was wonderful." She giggled. "I got a 94 on a paper I worked on for three weeks, how ridiculous is that? It deserved atleast a 97."

"I'm sure it did." Dean replied, moving the kisses to her jawline.

"Dean, please." Elsa titled away from Dean and motioned that he should come sit by her by patting the space too her left. Dean obeyed. "Now, have you worked on your Marine Biology project? It's due next week, and your paper on your favorite Shakespeare piece? What about that?"

"Yes, I have." Dean muttered, he actually haven't start on any of it, he just want Elsa to fucking kiss him back.

"Good." Elsa smiled, twisting her hand onto Dean's leather jacket and pulling him into a kiss, resting one of her hands on Dean's thigh while both of Dean's hands cupped her face.

Elsa was a good girl. She's been an honor roll student since first grade, never gotten into any trouble with her parents and every single teacher said has had wishes that she could get held back just so they could reteach her because she was that great of a pleasure. Unfortunately, that didn't happen, she had actually skipped sophomore year in high school and went straight to being a junior.

Dean's hands trickled down to feel up under her shirt and Elsa surprisingly did not push him away. Dean smirked under the kiss; he knew he had her now.

"Excuse me?" Dean jumped, so did Elsa. Elsa shrieked a bit and Dean practically bounced two feet away from her on the stone bench.

A guy in brown corduroys, a blue button down and dress shoes bashfully interrupted their session, his hands balancing textbooks on his hips and his eyes staring down at his shoes, attempting to unsee what he had just clearly, saw.

"Are you Dean Winchester?" His voice was a bit deeper than Dean expected it to be based on his appearance, his black hair was scruffy against his forehead and you could tell he hadn't shaved in a couple of days.

"Who's asking?" Dean retorted.

"Castiel Hummings, some people said you might be over here, but I uh-didn't know you were-uh-um-busy." The wind blew through the trees and Castiel was thankful that it did, for it would have been complete silence if it hadn't of.

"Who are you?"

"I'm new here. They assigned my room and I couldn't find it so, I thought I should look for my roommate and some people said you might be here and-"

"Roommate? Are-"

"Yeah they said…-'

"You kidding me! Seven month's without a roommate and now they decided to give me one and just when I settle in…how great. It's fucking dandy."

"I'm sorry…I didn't mean to anger you." Castiel commented, standing in the cold without a jacket, uncomfortably watching Elsa fiddled with the buttons on her peacoat.

Dean stood up, whispered something to Elsa that made her smile and walked away, passed Castiel.

"Are you coming or what?" Castiel jogged until he caught up with the angered Dean, realizing just how short Dean made him feel. Castiel tucked his black hair behide his ear, remembering what his dad told him before he left home to join this school, _if you're going to go into something, do it with a smile. _So he did just that. Braving on a smile, he struggled to formulate conversation with his new roommate.

"Is she your girlfriend?" Castiel questioned.

"Currently, yes."

"She's pretty."

"You can have her once I'm done."

"I don't think I could ever get a girl like that."

"Why not?"

"I just don't think I have it in me. How long have you been dating?"

"Two weeks."

"That's not very long-"

"Looks, Castiel, is it? I'm not that big on the whole best buddy, friendship thing just because we're roommates now. I don't have friends. Would you please just be quite so I can show you where our dorm is?" Castiel nodded, not quite offended, not quite satisfied. He didn't care rather or not he would become friends with his roommate. He preferred it, yes, but there were over 2,000 people in this school, he could always make more.

Once they arrived at the dorm, Dean unlocked the door and opened his arms wide as if he was showcasing it off for an auction.

"Over here, you see the attached bathroom. My side is on the left, I've never touched the right since there's no purpose but I swear if you touch my stuff, it will be the end of ya." Castiel was of the same mind set, placing down his duffle bag on his new bed and wishing he had brought some extra blankets once he saw how thin the bedding was.

"How old are you?" Dean called out, watching Castiel place a picture of his family on his bed side table.

"17."

"Me too. That's your family?" Dean asked, trying to recover from how harsh he was on Castiel earlier, he was just angry, and when he gets angry he says things he doesn't really mean.

"It is. Three brothers, one sister, and my dad. I love them all to death." Castiel smiled at the picture, Dean just nodded and clicked his tongue. "Do you have any family?"

"Nope, just my brother Sammy, who's still in middle school. Dad's a dead beat, Mom's dead."

"Oh-uh, I'm sorry."

"Aren't we all?" Castiel felt odd after that, he just continued to unpack his belongings, noticing how Dean would glance over every once in awhile to see what he was unpacking.

"What's that?" Dean's head slightly lifted up, trying to catch sigh of the black leather bound notebook in Castiel's grip.

"My notebook."

"Obviously." Dean rolled his eyes. "What do you write in it?'

"I just like to write, something I've always done."

"Huh…"

"What?"

"Nothing, just don't see how someone can write about things. It's difficult to slow down my brain and put things in words."

"It's all my brain does." Castiel stated. Sliding the book into the third draw of his nightstand along with two pens and a pencil, hoping that Dean would stop questioning him about his writings given that his writing's were what was personal to him.

"Well…I'm going to go hop in the shower, you have fun unpacking and hitting those textbooks." Dean pointed at the six heavy books weighing down his bed, walking towards the bathroom.

Castiel just shook his head and conjured up a bit of a laugh. Maybe he had just put Dean off guard, he wasn't aware that he was going to be gaining a roommate today. Castiel convinced himself of that, a bit determined to have gained Dean's friendship. Castiel grabbed the wooden framed black and white photo of his family, reminiscing to the moment the photo was taken.

"I'll succeed, Dad. Watch me." Castiel spoke to the picture with such purpose and sincerity it was if his Dad was standing right infront of him with the same, _don't let me down, Son_, expression that he had seen plenty of times before.

Castiel set the photo down on the table so he could finish up packing by tonight. Castiel sighed, listening to the shower turn on and Dean's faint singing. Dean was a character, Castiel thought. An insanely attractive character with sea green eyes that if Castiel looked right into them they could fix every bad thing Castiel had ever faced. Sadly, they couldn't, but Castiel imagined that his lips on his could make him forget for a little while.

Castiel shook his head, tossing his duffle bag underneath his bed and throwing himself onto it, wondering what it would be like if he could, at least for one day, not disappoint everybody around him with his stupid, gay feelings.

* * *

_Chapter Two will be up tomorrow._


	2. Chapter 2

_Say to me what you feel_  
_Don't bother asking why_  
_I don't want you to know I care_  
_For that ends with goodbyes_

Getting off on the wrong foot was the correct phrase when it came to the introduction of Castiel and Dean. First impressions weren't as important as second ones. If you always went off first impressions, you may not have the best friend you do now. If people never gave second chances, where would you be? Wise men say, be fair, and fair Dean was.

Dean wasn't as insensitive as he could have been; he kind of grew fond of Castiel. He realized that Castiel was just as scared at life as he was. Of course, Dean had never admitted that he was scared, that's a pussy move, but he listened to Castiel vent about how terrified he was about college, and if he failed at life ambitions, and if he never was fully content with himself. Castiel vented because Dean listened. Dean never had advice, but he understood, and he listened, and Castiel found that out quickly. One Thursday night, Castiel barged into their dorm with irritated tears streaming down his face over the fact how much pressure this new school was putting on him. It seemed that he could work his hardest on a project and the highest he would get is a B. Dean just simply asked what was wrong and Castiel shook his head, not wanting to bother Dean with his silly little problems. _You're gonna write it down in that little black notebook, and then what? It's still gonna be up in your head, let it out, _Dean said to him, and he did.

Castiel didn't make any friends. He took a shot at it, but everybody already had their cliques sealed tight with no intent of letting a new member in. In Chemistry, three girls completely switched tables when Castiel sat down with them because they "were working on Prom plans and didn't want to spoil anything." Castiel just stayed quite. He took his notes, he listened to the teachers, and he went straight to his dorm at the end of the day. He would grab an apple or a small snack from the cafeteria on the way back to his room, and that would be all he would eat that day because he didn't want to face anybody.

Anxiety got to him quick. He feared that every single group he passed would be whispering about him that moment he got far enough to talk about, or even worse, straight to his face. He feared that when he entered a classroom, he would trip or fall, or do something to make a fool of himself. It got so bad that one day while sitting in class, his pencil rolled off his desk and his heart started beating as if there was a gun pointing straight to his head. He was strong-minded nevertheless, he worked his ass off to get into this school and his feelings weren't going to get in the way of a successful future and a proud father.

Dean broke up with Elsa, she cried. He did with the excuse that she was taking up too much of his school time, which a relationship wasn't going to work out at the moment. Which was true, Dean Winchester never thought a relationship was going to work out, but honestly, she just got boring. All she did was kiss. She wouldn't put out, and frankly, Dean notioned that was tiresome.

"You broke up with her because she wouldn't put out?" Castiel inquired, flipping through some math problems laid out on his bed infront of him and doodling down some vocabulary words from his U.S History textbook balancing on his thigh.

"Yep." Dean smacked his lips on the p, lighting a cigarette and placing it in his mouth.

"That's a bit rude, don't you think?"

"I don't work with girls who don't put out. She had this whole theory she was gonna change that, not gonna happen." Dean smothered the words out of his mouth with the cigarette still pressed between his teeth.

Castiel envisioned taking the cigarette out of Dean's mouth and kissing his lips with the nicotine lingering on his breathe, straddling him and taking complete control over Dean and his arrogant personality, making him feel good enough that he would actually be the one to make Dean change his mind. Castiel then realized, he was caught in Dean Winchester's trap. He knew what all the girls meant when they said they wanted to change Dean Winchester, they wanted that title. Castiel wanted that title.

"Don't get me wrong, I respect girls. I just appreciate when they do me." Dean shrugged, blowing out a puff of smoke, watching it evaporated into the air.

"Right." Castiel nodded, trying to focus on his homework which was difficult when there was Dean Winchester, feet away from you, working on a cigarette, spread out across his bed in a white tee-shirt.

"Ever had a girlfriend?" Dean asked Castiel after awhile.

"When I was younger."

"How young?"

"Like…nine?" Dean laughed, smashing the cigarette into the wooden frame of his bed, the flame leaving an ash mark next to many others.

"Nine? Did you even kiss?" Castiel just noticeable shook his head, it was a kiss on the cheek when their parents asked for a cute picture but it counted. "Have you ever had an actual girlfriend?"

Castiel pretended like he was thinking, because he knew the answer straight off the bat. No. He had never had an actual girlfriend, who you hold hands with, and kiss, and do cute couple things with. Probably for the fact that he knew he was gay from the time he kissed that boy in spin the bottle when he was twelve.

"Not really." Dean just titled his head, examining how, just how. Castiel was a good looking guy. He had eyes that could leave you thinking for days, and a smile that made you forget cancer existed, and even when he was frustrated, it was adorable because you knew Castiel wouldn't hurt a fly.

"Well, let's find you one. You can have your pick, I can hook you up."

"No, thanks."

"Why?" Castiel shrugged, continuing to do his homework that he was actually not really doing.

"Tell me." Castiel shrugged again, wishing Dean would drop the subject. He had only had met the guy two months ago, and yeah, he was a goodish guy but Castiel never knew how people took him anymore. Last time he had told somebody he was gay; he was slapped in the face.

"Maybe one day, but I'm trying to focus on my Prob and Stats homework that's due tomorrow, so." Dean put his hands up in a defensive manner to show that the subject was dropped. Castiel pulled out his black notebook to write about whatever came to his mind at the time, but there was a knock on their dorm door.

"If that's Elsa again, tell her I'm not interested." Dean called out to Castiel who moved his books aside to answer the stranger.

"There's somebody up in the main office wanting to see you, ." A petite girl with ginger hair handed Castiel a pass to the office. Castiel looked back at Dean confused, who reassured him it was probably just over some information since he was new.

Castiel tried to convince himself that they whole way there, replaying Dean's soothing voice in his head. He followed the ginger haired girl to the main office and saw somebody he had never expected to be there, his Father. Castiel's hands started to shake.

"Son!" Castiel's dad embraced him with a hug and a huge smile upon his face which confused Castiel since the last time he saw him, he was kicking and screaming to be taken out of his rehab center.

"You're out of rehab?" Castiel whispered when he was let go of his hug. His dad nodded proudly, but Cas glanced down to still see the orange colored bracelet that indicated he was still a patient. If he snuck out again, he was going to die in that rehab center.

"I came to see you, Castiel. Gabriel told me you were up in this fancy school just like you said you were going to get into. Looks like you're using my money to good use." His dad bluntly stated, gazing along the fancy tiling and wallpaper.

"You talked to Gabriel? How is he doing?"

"Good as always, still doing stand up at that coffee house he owns." Castiel nodded and there was an awkward silence.

"Here's Castiel's current grades and GPA average, ." The ginger haired girl appeared once more, handing Cas's dad stacks of papers.

"Dad, you didn't have to do that. I'm passing everything."

"An 86? You're passing Chemistry with an 86? I passed Chemistry with a 98-"Castiel's dad went on. Castiel knew how smart his dad was; he used every chance he had to use it against Cas which made Cas feel like shit. It made Cas sad to see his entire father's potential go to waste just because of his bipolar disorder.

"I was gonna go to college, I was gonna get a degree-"His voice began to get louder and Castiel began to get frightened. "I didn't raise a fagot son, just so he could disappoint me and end like his father!" He was yelling by now. There were tears in Castiel's eyes. His father's words raised the eyebrows of everyone in the office, a lady on the phone motioned to some of the older boys working to show him the way out. They tried.

His dad kicked, and his dad screamed, and his dad called him name's just like he did the day Castiel submitted him to rehab.

"You tell anybody of anything, and I will sneak out of that shithole again and get you and your brothers and we'll run away, just like we did when your mom left." His dad spat in his face, Castiel walked away. He ran down the hallway, and he wondered how his dad sneaked out again, and he wondered how much longer they would keep him when they found out.

He struggled to get the dorm key to work, and when he did he walked in, slammed it and started crying. He didn't care that Dean was sitting on his bed, probably calling him a pussy or a weakling or both. He slid down the wooden door and sobbed.

Dean didn't say anything; he just stared, because he didn't know what to say. Dean wasn't good with words, he wasn't good with making people comfortable with his advice. Dean knew how to comfort people with hugs and kisses and actions.

"Will you hand me my notebook?" Castiel lifted his head, making eye contact with Dean who was looking at him through his whole sob session. Castiel wiped his eyes with the end of his blue sweater, pleading Dean with his eyes to help him.

"No." Castiel just shook his head and attempted to get up off the floor. "No, you're not gonna write about it in your little black notebook, that's not going to help-"

"Yes it is! Words help! Words help me, Dean. They explain things to me, they help me understand, and stop calling it a little black notebook. It's more, okay?" Dean clicked his tongue, getting up off his bed and walking over to Castiel's bedside table, pulling open the third drawer and taking out Castiel's notebook, tossing it over to him.

"Thank you…" Castiel heaved out, catching it and opening it to a fresh page.

"Read aloud to me what you write." Dean demanded, leaning against Castiel's bedside table with his arms crossed.

"I don't think so-"

"Do it." Castiel shook his head. "Do it or I'll tell everyone you're gay." The look on Dean's face said that he wasn't bluffing, and the look on Castiel's face said that he was scared.

"How did you…Dean-"

"I took a peak at your notebook while you were gone. As soon as I read it, I stopped. I didn't know how personal it was, you really do write about everything."

"I'm sorry, I understand if you want me to switch rooms-"

"Read aloud to me what you write."

And so he did. He wrote about how when he was younger, his dad would hit his brother's when he got mean, and he wrote about worrying about his dad in rehab and feeling responsible because he was the one that put him in there. He wrote about that one boy he kissed in spin the bottle when he was twelve, and he wrote about how his dad kept on moving around to ignore paying bills and taxes when their mother left because she couldn't handle him anymore. He wrote about his father hitting him when he found out he had a gay son and he wrote about how his brothers don't talk to him half as much as they use too. He said all his words aloud and Dean listened.

By the time he had wrote about everything he wanted too, it was late, and Castiel had stopped crying.

"Goodnight, Castiel." Dean said once he was certain Cas was finished.

"Goodnight, Dean." Castiel replied, walking over to his bed and placing his notebook back into its place. The words he had sprung to life reading aloud to Dean were dancing around in his head as he tried to slumber. There was a feeling of contentment that he had done what he did; of course, skipping the bit where he wrote about how Dean's eye's remind him of the way flowers smell and how he secretly understood why Dean didn't want a relationship even though Dean never discussed his feelings. Dean was scared of commitment, life, and anything inbetween, so was Cas.

Castiel felt a glow on cheeks just from thinking about him and Dean conquering the world together. He told himself to get it together and go to bed.

* * *

_**Chapter Three will be up tomorrow. Review's are appreciated. 3**_


	3. Chapter 3

_Enjoy._

* * *

_Feeling numb_  
_is the most oxymoronic thing_  
_I have ever heard_  
_how do you feel numb_  
_if numb isn't meant  
to be felt_

Everyone was calling him a fagot. Everyone was staring, and everyone was laughing, and everyone was judging him for being who he was. This wasn't just an anxiety driven theory that Castiel created in his mind, this was real. While switching classes somebody threw their apple juice carton at his face and called him a queer, and the cold juice dripping off of his hair felt very, very real.

Dean was mad. The moment Castiel walked into their dorm with apple juice trickling down his face, Dean wanted names. Dean paced the floor, yelling to absolutely no one in particular that he was going to bash their faces in and make sure they never have children with what he was going to do with them. Castiel took another approach, telling Dean to just ignore it. Castiel would take it. Castiel wouldn't let it affect him although, by the words in his black notebook, it affected him greatly.

His grades started to gradually drop, the bags under his eyes began to turn purple, and Dean was his only friend. He didn't understand why people would treat him the way they did just because he liked boys. He didn't understand why he wasn't strong enough to not let it get to him.

"Get some sleep." Dean persuaded Castiel, practically pleading him to skip the day and rest in bed. Castiel shook his head tiredly, walking out of the door with Dean with his textbooks under his arm that had papers coming out from all sides. "Look you need it, you look like shit." Castiel just breathed a sigh, brushing passed Dean and continued his way to class.

"Castiel! Hey!" A boy with a blonde clean-cut hairstyle mocked out Cas's name a few dorms down. Castiel kept on walking. "Why don't you come over and have sweet gay sex with my roommate here, I heard you were into that of thing?" The boy's roommate playfully hit his shoulder, laughing along. Castiel didn't pay him any attention but he could hear the nearby people snickering.

"How about you shut your piehole?" Dean came up behide Castiel, raising his eyebrows at the boy, begging him to say a smart ass remark.

"Dean Winchester! Haven't seen you in awhile, you stopped hanging out at the makeout garden. Have you been busy being gay with your new roommate boyfriend?"

"Actually I've been busying fucking the brains out of your girlfriend. "

"Hey, watch your mouth." The blonde stepped closer.

"We have to get to class, Dean…" Castiel mumbled to Dean, grabbing Dean's arm to pull him away. Dean acted as if he hadn't of heard Castiel's warning.

"She says I'm better than you." Dean smirked. "She leaves scratches on my back, moans my name louder, I'm sure. Oh, and did you know she fakes organism with you? Exactly how small is your-?"

"Shut it, Winchester. I'll swing." The blonde was face to face with Dean, and Dean didn't care. He had gotten him angry enough to forget about bullying Castiel. That was his plan, and it had obviously worked. If this guy swung, Dean would have taken it. He would have taken every single hit before he would pick on Castiel again.

"What's stopping you, big shot?" The boy's cheeks were red; his hands were balled up at his side. "Oh, that's right. You're in here on a scholarship, and if you get in an altercation you'll get kicked out. So, I suggest you don't hit me because it wouldn't end well for the both of us."

The blonde boy walked away with a dissatisfied expression upon his face. Dean walked away with a smug expression, one knowing that he had just won but the expression faded when he saw Castiel was staring at the concrete.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

"I don't want people to think you're gay just because you hang out with me. I don't want that trouble upon you."

"I can take it, Cas."

"Yeah, but I still don't want rumors going around that you're queer. I didn't mean to do that to you, I don't want to ruin your reputation, I don't want our friendship to be ruin either-"

The late bell rung, Castiel started to get frustrated and worried. His eyes got big and he turned to Dean.

"I can't be late to class, Dean. My dad is going to be disappointed with my grades already, come on. We have to g-"

Dean kissed him. Castiel nearly dropped his books. Dean kissed him right there a few feet away from their dorm. He kissed him while Castiel was all flustered and troubled about his grades. The weather was gloomy, and the sun was not shining but Castiel was certain that he did not need perfect weather for a kiss from Dean Winchester.

"You alright?" Dean questioned, pulling away from Castiel's lips and getting slight contentment from the shock still showing in Castiel's cobalt eyes.

"Dean, you just kissed me." Dean nodded. "I didn't-I mean-You kissed-Dean?" Dean raised his eyebrows, as if the answer was obviously there, lingering in the air and he was waiting for Castiel to catch it.

"You like boys…?" Castiel whispered although nobody was around.

"How do you think I found out I like sex so much?" Dean smirked.

"And nobody knows?"

"Bad boy player act works well don't you think?"

"Of course."

Castiel awkwardly caught Dean's eyes a few times while he scanned the outside area of any people.

"And you like me?" Castiel nervously asked.

Dean scoffed. "Yeah." Castiel bit the inside of his lip.

"And you're not just saying any of this just so you can make fun of me later or-"

Dean kissed him again; he liked feeling the tenseness ease away from Cas's mouth when he cut him off in the middle of a sentence.

"You're not going to classes today; you wouldn't be able to focus." Dean unlocked their dorm door, easily slipping his fingers into Castiel's for the first time and tugging him into the doorway.

"I have to."

"No, you don't." Dean said, shaking his head at Castiel. "You're going to take a nap with me."

"You're not going to treat me like you do those girls, are you?"

"I never would."

So, they slept. They cuddled together up on Dean's bed and Castiel could smell the nicotine and cologne fogging up the sheets, but he found comfort in it. Dean wrapped both of his arms around Castiel, his chest pressed up against Cas's back.

Castiel wasn't a bit concerned if they were going too fast, he was making up for lost time, and he deserved something like this. He just had his first kiss in five years just a few moments ago and now he had Dean Winchester. He had Dean Winchester. He knew Dean, he knew that Dean would not do anything to harm him, and that he wasn't afraid of commitment or relationships, Dean was, in reality, just gay.

"Did you get any sleep? I don't want to see dark circles under your eyes anymore. "Dean yawned, unraveling himself from Castiel and turning over on his back, stretching his arms above his head.

"What?" Castiel replied, fluttering open his eyelids when he heard Dean's voice.

"Nothing." Dean laughed. "It's only five." Dean commented, reading the clock placed on the wall.

"Tell me five things about yourself." Castiel stated, sitting himself up beside Dean turning his head to look at him. Pillow creases, drooled mouth, bedhead, and he was still gorgeous. "It's a game me and my brother's use to play this game when we got bored. Whatever time it is, we tell each other something about ourselves according to the number. "Castiel further explained.

"Alright, my favorite color is orange." Dean played along, grabbing Castiel's hand, fiddling with his thumb.

"Why orange?"

"Because it's the color Sammy painted his walls when he was younger. It was so bright and vibrant, just like his personality." Castiel nodded as a signal for him to continue. "I don't think I'm cut out for this school, I really like Nirvana, and I wish I could be gay without anyone judging me."

"That's four."

"I like lakes. I want to live by one. Water's soothing, elegant. It reminds me of my mom." Castiel watched Dean's hand fiddle with his fingers while he talked. His nails would graze over the outlines on his palms while he listened to Dean's heavy breathing. "You know I hate it when they talk about you like that."

"You can't stop assholes."

"That's the spirit, but punching him the jaw makes you feel a bit better about it."

"Can't hit everybody who call's me queer in a negative way, it would do no good. "

"I like it how you're gentle hearted. You won't even hate the people who give you hell."

"My dad always says to go into everything with a smile. I guess I just stuck with it.

"I'd said."

The two sat there, cuddling, and kissing, and listening to each other about what they did with their life before they got into this school.

Castiel was happy; he was surprised by how many times he smiled within an hour with Dean, and he didn't know what did it. The sarcastic humor, the eyes, the smile, the smirk, whatever it was, it made Castiel weak. It made Castiel vulnerable.

Dean still had walls up; he never went into a relationship with all his walls down that meant the other person had a chance to hurt you. Castiel made Dean feel something, and that mystery something was enough. He had felt numb in all his other relationships, no feelings, just sex. He was tired of feeling numb. He wanted something beyond sex. Yeah, sex was nice but it was also nice to hear somebody say they love you when you're crying your eyes out at three in the morning when you look like shit and they can smell the alcohol on your breathe.

Dean wanted somebody to say that it was okay that your Dad doesn't care about you because I do. He wanted somebody to say that his mom loved him, and that photographs are enough to prove that. He wanted somebody who would fight hard and dirty to climb over his walls because to break them would be impossible, but finding a way to work around them is what he needed. His walls would always be up. He couldn't fathom somebody taking in the mess he was.

Dean stopped thinking. He wanted to focus on Castiel. He was broken, correct, but he Cas was shattered.

So, he spent the rest of the night watching Castiel fade in and out of sleep which was nice since Castiel hadn't gotten a full eight hours rest in a couple of weeks. He tousled with his hair, parting it on different sides and brushing it up. He planted kisses on his head every once in awhile which, without fail, awoke Castiel, so he stopped. And that's what he did, just watch him sleep, wondering if they would ever make it passed the safe walls of their dorm.

* * *

**_Chapter four will be up tomorrow._**

**_Review's are greatly appreciated! _**


	4. Chapter 4

_**enjoy**_

* * *

"_You see the trouble with me__  
__I've got a head full of fuck__  
__I'm a basket case__  
__I don't think I can love, love, love"__  
__**The Trouble with Me-Robbie Williams**_

It had been four month's since Castiel had to write in his little black notebook. It had been four month's since Dean had kissed Castiel unexpectedly infront of their dorm. It had been four month's since Castiel fell in love with Dean, and it all happened very fast.

Castiel had always been reluctantly interested in love and helplessly interested in the logic of it. He felt it was necessary for a happy balance, a happy existence. Once he had actually grasped whatever love was with Dean, he realized that his theory was right. Love was necessary for a happy existence, he had never been happier, and he feared he would never have this amount of happiness without Dean. The four months were a marathon, and Castiel was the unfit contestant.

During those four months, the bullying slowed down. There were still some asshole kids who would call Castiel gay while he walked passed, but he learned to brush it off. Castiel was slightly content with people knowing what he was. A bit of him _wanted_ people to know. A part of him wanted to shout it down the hallways, hanging out with Dean had made rebellion slip into his personality.

He hadn't overloaded his brain with thoughts about his dad in weeks. He called every other week to make sure his Dad was doing okay. The nurse would always say yes, then Castiel would ask to speak with him, and his dad would always say no. Overall though, his dad was safe in the rehab center, taking small steps to overcome his disorder. Dean would reassure Cas whenever he got to the thoughts of thinking that he was responsible that his dad wasn't happy. _You did want you had to, he's safe there. He needed help, and you gave him that. _Castiel just nodded, swaying in Dean's arms.

His anxiety still devoured his mindset at points. There were times where all he could do was curl up in a ball because of how much stress school put him under. He _needed_ to be the best in his class. He needed to be the best so he could show all the assholes that picked on him what he could do, he needed to so he could keep his promise to his dad. Whenever his teacher would hand him a paper with a B on it, he would start shaking and his mind would tell him crazy things. He couldn't get a B when other students were getting A's. He would ball up the paper and throw it against the wall and tell himself he wasn't good enough. He would follow-up with saying that he wasn't going to graduate, and he wasn't going to be successful, and a bunch of other shit that Dean didn't believe.

Dean tried his best to help with Castiel's anxiety because he could see it growing worse. He saw the way he never looked up while walking in the hallways just to avoid random eye contact with anybody, the way that he stood extra close to Dean in the lunch hall for security, he didn't want any conversation with anyone. He didn't know what to say, or for fear that he would say the wrong thing. Dean tried, he did, but you can only say, _they're not staring at you, just don't think about it." _so many times before it got old.

Dean still hadn't even confessed 25% of his life to Castiel. He didn't want to burden Castiel with what he was feeling, he didn't think anybody really cared either. He cared about Castiel far more than himself. Dean was happy with Castiel, and he didn't want to ruin that. He wasn't even sure how he was in such a happy relationship. He hadn't had a stable relationship in, ever. He wasn't suppose to be this happy, it scared Dean. Dean Winchester was suppose to have the tough life with the deadbeat dad and a little brother that deserved better. Dean Winchester was suppose to be drinking every night and killing himself with cigarettes, not being happy with an angelic partner that made him smile like a kid when he looked at him.

The only problem the both of them had, was that they weren't able to show each other off. Dean wanted people to see the way it took Castiel a second to realize Dean was kissing him because he would never get use to it, he wanted people to see the way he holds Castiel's hand, and he wanted people to see how in love they were.

It's sad that a school would kick you out for being in love faster than if you were failing. Dean would know, he was failing.

He had C's in three classes and a D in the other. Dean kept up with the required B average at the beginning, but as time went on, he stopped caring. Castiel didn't know, Dean didn't want him too. If he didn't pull up his average by the end of the semester in four weeks, he would be kicked out. Dean knew this school was going to be too much for him, he just didn't want to end up like his dad and he knew that by taking this route of not caring, he was doing exactly that.

"Come on, Dean, hurry up!" Cas knocked on the bathroom door, feeling the steam from the showering tickling his toes from the crack in the door frame. He could hear Dean belting a song and completely ignoring Castiel's pleads.

"I hope you don't mind, I hope you don't mind!" Dean sung, turning off the shower facets.

"That I put down in words." Castiel said through the door.

"How wonderful life is..."

"Now that you're in the world." Castiel finished. "Now,stop singing Elton John and let me take a shower."

"Hold it, babe!" Dean wrapped a towel around himself, fixing his wet hair in the mirror. Something caught in his throat, and he coughed into his hand. There was blood. He coughed again, more blood.

Dean looked at it confusingly, wiping it on his towel like it was nothing.

"There you go, princess." Dean mocked Cas, opening up the bathroom door and kissing him on the tip of his nose.

"Thank you." Castiel giggled, sliding passed Dean and into the bathroom.

Dean heard the water click back on, and he was relieved. He got dressed, which seemed to take a toll on him, and he wondered why getting dressed was making him so out of breath.

Castiel finished up his shower, walking out of the bathroom and into the dorm.

"You're wearing my shirt." Castiel smiled.

"Looks better on me, I think." Dean replied.

Dean kissed Castiel with a hand placed on his bare chest. The water trickled from Castiel's hair and onto Dean's nose, making Dean smile a bit.

"2 days until Winter Break, Home for the Holidays. Aren't you excited?" Dean tugged away from Cas, pulling a bit of his lip.

"It's just going to be me and my brothers in our house ignoring each other."

"Have some holiday cheer, babe." Dean replied before cupping Castiel's face and kissing him, sinking into the sensuousness of his soft lips. His warm skin and willing tongue made him forget that he was surrounded in the scent of his cinnamon scented shampoo still remaining on his skin. He had to pull away more than normal, his heart was beating faster and he couldn't hold his breath longer than he usually could.

Castiel made a map on Dean's skin, tracing his fingers back and forth between his hipbones, experiencing the tingle down his spine as when Dean touched him for the first time. Castiel made sure his fingertips touched each one of the freckles that laid across his stomach, it was his favorite thing about Dean. He was positive many people had seen the freckles and planted kisses over them, but Castiel liked to think that it was his secret spot. He was positive that he had been the only one to appreciate them like he did, all eighteen of them.

"I got you a present." Castiel sighed, pulling away from the kiss that almost made him forget how to breathe. Dean tilted his head, letting Castiel loose from his arms and watching him walk over to his bedside table and open up the drawer.

"A notebook?"

"A little black notebook, as you call it." Dean smirked, grabbing the notebook that Castiel was handing him. "Write in it, write to me, write about your day. I want to be able to read them a year from now when we're still together."

"I'm not that much of a writer." Dean flipped through the blank pages, wondering what he could say.

"Just try. I wanna have memories."

"Yeah, yeah I'll try." Dean placed the notebook on his bed, pulling Castiel to him by his hips.

"You promise?" Dean nodded, kissing the top of his head.

* * *

The two days passed by, Winter Break arrived. Dean and Castiel spent an extra twenty minutes in their dorm, kissing and repeating to each other that they would miss one another since they couldn't do that at the train station. They both silently walked to the station, suitcases in hand.

Castiel's train came first, he weakly waved goodbye from the window to Dean. Dean just nodded his head. If he did anything other than that he would have boarded that train himself and kissed Castiel infront of everyone.

The ride to Castiel's home wasn't but an hour away, he wished it was longer.

The front porch light wasn't on when he arrived, and when he walked in Gabriel was the only one in the house. Attempting to set up the Christmas tree.

"Where are the others?" Castiel awkwardly ask, setting his suitcase down on the living room rug.

"On their way, somewhere. I don't even know if they're coming." Castiel nodded. "But come over here and help me, little brother."

* * *

Dean's dad was passed out in the bedroom of their shitty apartment when he arrived home off the train. Sam greeted him at the door, running up and hugging him for a long time. Dean was glad somebody missed him.

"You doing good, Sammy?" Dean ruffled his brother's hair and sat down with him on the couch.

"Yeah! I have all A's in school."

"Good. Dad doing okay?"

"Yeah, he's okay." Dean stared sympathetically at the kid, he had to come home to this everyday. A drunk dad, nobody home but him, and he still had straight A's. Dean's eyes' scanned the one room apartment, seeing Sammy's clothes neatly folded in the corner and his red book-bag lined up against the wall beside them. There were bottles of Jack Daniels, Vodka, and wine spluttered all over kitchen. Dean shook his head, seeing that things hadn't had gotten better since he left like he thought they would.

Dean's eyes found the wallet on top of the kitchen counter.

"Come on Sammy, we're taking you Christmas shopping."

He closed the door of their apartment, making sure not to slam it so he wouldn't wake their dad and catching his breath that seemed harder to catch each day. He watched Sam excitingly rush down the sidewalk in the direction of the nearest shop and smiled. He found the first thing he was going to write about to Castiel in his little black notebook.

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_**Did you enjoy? Please review, favorite, and follow for more! **_


	5. Chapter 5

_**enjoy**_

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_I don't see how he does it, Cas. How can Sammy deal with this shitty life each and every day while I'm out living a sort of good life? I've been on break for 9 days and I've spoken about twenty words to my dad and seven of them were about getting him another beer. I feel guilty. I feel like Sammy is my responsibility, I should be taking care of him. He's 12, he has six more years before he can live on his own. I could do something before then, right? He doesn't even remember mom. He doesn't remember the one person that loved him the most. Castiel, I think that's bullshit. Sammy hasn't had anything in his life, nothing. He walks around with a smile, with hope that I can't even pull out of thin air. He doesn't hate dad at all, not like I do. He says he understands dad, that dad is sad because moms not here. I don't see how he is so wise and happy, I think it's because he's young. When you're young you have all this innocence and purity running through your veins. I got him Christmas presents, good ones. Well, good in his eyes. You should have seen the kid trying to carry around all those books he wanted. It made me smile, he's reading one now. Moby dick or something like that. Smart kid, smarter than me. Naturally smart. He's gonna do big things, I can see it._

_-Dean_

Dean closed the notebook, scanning his eyes over the words that he was surprisingly satisfied with. Dean got why Cas wrote, it felt nice. It felt nice letting out how you felt without having to explain it to anyone and feeling like a pussy.

He watched Sam flip through his book with complete admiration, examining each spill of ink that formed a letter into a story that intrigued Sam. He found it interesting that Sam could sit there for hours upon hours, reading the same paragraph over and over again and not get bored with the same words. He already knew the plotline, the characters, and the order of the words but each time he read it he obtained something new. Dean knew Sam was smart like that, he always got some sort of knowledge from anything he did; Dean knew that he was going to go places. He already had a future set and the kid wasn't even sixteen yet.

"Want some orange juice, Sammy?" Dean asked, chuckling a little at how Sam nodded his head without tearing his eyes away from the pages.

Dean walked into the kitchen and grabbed the carton from the fridge, sighing at the lack of food in it. He closed the door with a force and poured the juice, watching it fall into the glass until he felt a sting in his stomach, he clutched his waist, dropping the orange juice on the floor feeling it form around his toes. He dropped down to his knees, putting pressure on the pain even though it didn't change the feeling at all. He began to cough, and there was blood. Just like the time in the dorm bathroom.

He coughed until he felt faint and the orange juice on the floor was soaked up into his jeans. He tried to seize his breath but he couldn't. He was positive if he could see his face right now it would look similar to someone who had just returned from war, bloody and tear stained.

"Dean! Dean, are you okay?" Sam rushed into the kitchen and stopped when he saw his big brother on the ground, holding his stomach and realizing he was coughing up blood. "I'm calling an ambulance."

"Sammy, I'm fine." Dean struggled to stand, leaning on the counter. "Sam, don't call anyone." Dean's words didn't affect Sam, all he heard was Sam's voice shakily talking to the person over the phone.

"My brother is- my brother is in pain. I don't know, he's just coughing up blood. I-um- I don't know. 1604 Dexter Avenue, Apartment 17, hurry please."

* * *

Castiel's fingers ran along the rim of his mug, sitting in the silence of the living room bugged him. He had never had silence like this in a very long time. He hadn't had uncomfortable, tongue-tied silence since the last time he was home.

Gabriel sat across from him, holding a mug in his right hand and flipping through a magazine with his left. He had been the only one who shown up for Christmas beside's Castiel. Gabriel was the last sibling to have hope in the family; he was always the positive one. The bright one, the sunny one, he always tried to avoid all the fighting and didn't really see traveling from place to place as a negative. He used all of it as a cover up, of course, who really likes a bi-polar, abusive dad running away because he couldn't deal with the death of his wife and shitty kids.

"How's the coffee shop?" Castiel muttered, watching his tea get cold.

"It's really good, actually. Business is booming with all the holiday flavors and shit." Castiel nodded, avoiding the awkward glances with his brother. "You're still gay, right?"

Castiel's head shot up, Gabriel was staring at him as casual as you possibly could, his eyebrows raised and head tilted.

"Gabriel-"

"Sorry, right, way to personal. I''m just asking because I get some gay ones in the coffee house all the time and I thought I could hook you up-"

"Gabriel." Gabriel put his hands up in defense and stopped talking. "I do-um-have a boyfriend-um."

"Well, good for you." Castiel felt uncomfortable sharing this with Gabriel because although he knew Gabriel was accepting, he knew Gabriel would never actually get it."I'm sorry dad or Barth couldn't be here."

"It's alright."

"It's not but hey, what are you gonna do about it?" Gabriel stood up and slapped the magazine back on the coffee table. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Christmas dinner, you and me, come on."

* * *

The machine beeped, the IV hooked up to Dean made him drowsy and Sam was waiting outside his room. Dean's eyelids fluttered open and he noticed the pain in his stomach was no longer there, which was reliving but he would rather have the pain than become dependent on so many medicines he could feel running in his veins. He tried to sit up but let out a loud shriek of pain instead. He could heard footsteps coming towards his door.

"Mr. Winchester, please stay rested." A ginger nurse walked in with a name tag of Sara. She walked over to try to gently push Dean down back onto his bed but failed.

"I can't stay here, I can't afford this. I'm fine."

"Don't worry about that, . You're not fine, please lay down."

"Not fine?"

"We would like to run some test."

"Fuck that, please just let me out of here."

"Sir, please, we are trying to figure out why you had such sharp pains at your age." Dean wanted to find out too and after hours of contemplating rather or not he wanted to stay in this damn hospital, he found out.

He had a blood clot in his left lung. He had coughed up blood and he hadn't even thought it was serious. Of course it was serious, he was coughing up_ blood. _He had fucking Pulmonary Embolism, that's what the nurse called it. The doctor said the sharp pains in his stomach and chest, the feeling faint, was a panic attack. How could he have a panic attack without even knowing it? The doctor had asked if he smoked, two packs a day, major role in it apparently. He had to have surgery or it would worsen.

The doctor had given him some medicine to help him, Dean had given it to Sam and told him to throw it in the garbage. The surgery was scheduled for two weeks from now, Dean couldn't smoke a single cig and he had to be on bed rest. What kind of shit was that, he thought.

Castiel couldn't know. Castiel had too much on his shoulders already and if he knew Dean was in bad condition, he would go crazy. Literally crazy. Dean figured he would just play it safe, make it seem like he was just being lazy instead of bed rest. Castiel wouldn't notice the difference. With the surgery, Dean would say he was going home for a couple of days. It would seem a bit strange seeing that he would have just gotten off break but he would say he promised Sammy. Yeah, it would all work out.

* * *

The dinner actually went along nicely. They talked about the nice memories as a child and ignored the bad ones, the many, many bad ones. Gabriel talked about his new girlfriend of three months and Castiel mentioned Dean a few times without feeling weird, it felt nice to brag about Dean even. Gabriel paid, he was actually being a brother, something Castiel never felt he had since he had come out.

"What's made you so nice to me?"

"What do you mean?" Gabriel asked, signing his signature on the receipt.

"You've never been this nice to me. Not since you found out I was gay."

"I figured life is too short to be an asshole and I changed. Simple."

Castiel said no more after that, he figured that's the only answer he was going to get.

They arrived back at their broken down home, opening up the door to see the Christmas tree lights on and a few presents underneath.

"Hey guys, fancy meeting you here." Barth was standing in the middle of the room, a glass of wine in his hands and a smug look on his face.

* * *

_**guys, really, I feel like this is shit please leave me reviews and tell me if I should continue or not or ideas or something, anything! I feel like it's so shitty. **_


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